All this and much more the excited young Prince appears to have said, and he seems to have deplored the fact of the King of England disdaining the friendship of such a great monarch as the King of Prussia, which could only lead to the ruin of his, Prince Frederick’s, house.
This impassioned appeal to his feelings affected even that astute old diplomatist, Baron Borck, who with Lord Townshend, had gained notoriety, by preventing the comic duel between the King of Prussia and King George.
It is more than probable that Baron Borck gave the distressed young Prince some fatherly advice and impressed upon him the hopelessness of thinking any more of his cousin Wilhelmina. None knew better than the Baron that such a marriage could never take place. In addition the Queen informed her son—they still had some confidence in each other left—that the King of Prussia had definitely refused to give him the hand of his daughter.
Soon after, the Prince gave in, and accepted the marriage his father had arranged for him, apparently in sheer desperation, and no doubt in consequence of a little pressure being put upon him financially, for his father gave him no fixed allowance then as it has been said, but simply as much or as little as he chose.
The young man’s pleadings to Baron Borck, however, were not without effect; the Baron wrote off at once to his master the King of Prussia, and reported all the Prince of Wales’ messages, but as luck would have it the letter fell into the hands of Walpole, who was not at all above tampering with the Ambassador’s post bags, and the whole of the Prince’s love ravings were communicated to the King, his father, whose anger passed comprehension, especially about that part which referred to his “disdaining the support of such a great monarch as the King of Prussia” whom he hated, and his own ruin speedily following.
All this was no doubt stored up by the Royal couple against their troublesome son, who seemed to be in ill-luck’s way. His parents were determined. They had married off their daughter Anne, the Princess Royal, in 1733 to the Prince of Orange, an amiable but deformed gentleman who apparently married his royal wife—he was only Serene himself—on the traditions of another Prince William of Orange who had preceded him. A marriage the English King and Queen would have now. Frederick was to marry the Princess Augusta, or go short, and it is not at all surprising, considering all things, that he gave in.
With regard to the above-mentioned marriage of Frederick’s eldest sister with the Prince of Orange, the way in which this unfortunate man was treated could not have been a better testimony to the bad breeding of King George and his wife. The poor Dutchman fell ill when he landed in England, and lay in that state for months, during which time the whole of the Royal Family were forbidden to go near him, lest they should make him proud by having such an attention from a “Royal” House as a sick visit. He was to be taught by little George to understand that if he ever should receive any dignity at all, it was not to be his own but a reflection from his marriage with a Royal Princess of England. In addition, to make things more pleasant all round—especially for the bride—he was given the name of “the Baboon” by the King in the family circle, and the Queen generally graciously referred to him as “that Animal.” All this was calculated to establish the future happiness of the young couple on a firm and sound basis.
But to return to Frederick, it is very evident that he hesitated long before he accepted the marriage his father proposed for him, until in fact it was demonstrated to him that the desire of his heart was unattainable; then he agreed in the following words: “whoever His Majesty thought a proper match for his son would be agreeable to him,” and the negotiations went forward forthwith.
The King, after an unusual struggle, had intimated—undoubtedly on the initiative of the Queen, for she suggested everything, or at any rate sanctioned everything before it passed through her hands—that he intended to allow the Prince £50,000 per annum, which seems a large sum to us considering the fact that the young couple were to live with “his people,” but when the sum is dissected, and the huge taxes deducted, the amount, as will be seen later, was not by any means too great an income for a Prince of Wales at that time. The sum that the young princess was to receive from her father’s grateful subjects of Saxe-Gotha by way of income, did not transpire.
The Prince having given his reluctant consent to the marriage—and there was something pitiable about it—little time was lost. Walpole was most anxious to get the Prince married, perhaps he was glad to put a final stop on the double marriage scheme which had worried him at intervals for years. Lord Delaware was selected, principally on account of his ugliness, to demand the hand of the Princess of Saxe-Gotha. King George had recollections, perhaps, of a certain handsome Count Königsmarck, who had played havoc in his father’s family, and was taking no risks in that respect in the present instance. This long, lank, unpolished nobleman shambled off to fetch the Princess Augusta, leaving no jealous feeling in anybody’s heart, that he would play the part of Paolo to the Princess’s Francesca.